“Am I mistaken after all?” I thought, and listened still.
Just then, with a heavy thud, as the ship plunged downward, a wave struck the port-bow, rose in a perfect cataract, and curling over, deluged me and rushed along the deck.
I should have been swept away, but the combings of the hatch sheltered me a little, and as the hissing splash of the water ceased, I fancied I heard a faint clink of one of the links of the great chain below, while the moment after came more plainly than I had heard it before a smothered, piteous cry—
“Help!”
And again directly after, as if he who uttered the cry were in agony—
“Help!”
I took out my pistol and thumped with the butt on the hatch, when there was silence again.
“Below there!” I shouted with my lips close to the boards.
“Help! pray help!” came in answer.
“All right,” I cried; “I’ll see.”